I used to have this image of myself as the champion of all that was good. I was the Jedi, the leader of the rebellion against operation, I was the Star Fleet officer championing peace in the galaxy, I was the wizard pitched against the Dark Lord. I was always the hero.

Yet, after years of living with my husband, I discovered that it was I who was The Dark Lord, The Oppressor, The Tyrant, … worse: I was the abuser.

I had always thought that I was the long-suffering but loyal partner. Putting up with drinking, mental health crises, the occasional beating.

What do you despise? By this you are truly known.

Frank Herbert, Dune

I would say things like:

• You’re overreacting – thereby dismissing his feelings and not hearing what he’s saying. In Wayne ways this is like a form of gaslighting saying that the world isn’t as he has experienced it.
• You’re too sensitive – just like You’re overreacting above, this attempts to invalidate my husband’s feelings and justify my own, or even somebody else’s words or actions.
• I’m disappointed in you – this was one of my mum’s; I didn’t realise this shaming this was until I really thought about it.
• You’re letting me down – piling shame onto somebody who has lived all their life carrying shame put on them by others. This is neither kind nor loving, whatever the motivation.
• Why can’t you be more like… – well, me, as if my emotional responses were so bloody wonderful. Shutdowns, meltdowns, unexpected emotional responses, badly thought out statements.

However, he’d say things like:

• I shouldn’t have to ask – which just made me feel inadequate because I couldn’t anticipate his needs and wants.
• If you really cared, you would… – whether this is listening “properly”, or simply remembering something without writing it down, apparently if I cared I would just instinctively know how to do something.
• You’re not trying hard enough – to listen properly, not to go into shutdown, not to say things that are hurtful, to express my emotions. I try to listen, to really listen, but I find that I can only do it for so long and that I need to be in the right space first. If I’m in the wrong space I might shutdown or argue back, or be picky and irritable.
• If you loved me, you’d… – put him first – I have prioritised friendships over him and his needs, fulfilling my own needs rather than this needs. I had to learn to do what I wanted/need irrespective of whether he was in a bad place or not (thanks Al Anon), because to not go to the theatre when we’re booked tickets, or go for a tasty trip when we’d planned to, only few resentment. I have always been very good in my own company. I still am. This is a problem for us.
• If you cared, you’d remember – unless I make a conscious effort to put whatever it is that my husband is doing into my calendar, I really risk forgetting. This isn’t because I don’t care and what he is doing isn’t important, but because I just cannot retain certain things. I feel that the physical act of recording things shows that I care more because I have to work to ensure that things aren’t forgotten.
• If you leave, I’ll hurt myself – this isn’t fair. This is threatening violence if I leave. It makes me feel as though I cannot make a few decision – whatever that reaction is – for being held hostage.
• Sometimes people raise their voices during an argument – shouting over somebody is bullying and isn’t acceptable.

We have both said:

• You always/never… – we have both said this! And never and always are too big to be used in a sentence. They are absolutes that are almost never true.
• You’re not who I thought you were – when I met him, he was in recovery from alcohol dependency – with an alcoholic father I thought that I’d find the perfect partner: he wasn’t going to be a drinker. He fell off the wagon (actually because he’s PTSD/bipolar not because he’s an alcoholic). I have had a long time to get used to him not being well I thought he was now. Last year, he found out about my Dark Fantasies and my identification was a eunuch, and he had to deal with a lot of crazy from me – he still does. I definitely am not who he thought I was.

I think that all that actually demonstrates that we are just humans with human failings – and maybe we shouldn’t be so hard on ourselves or each other.

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What if the democracy we thought we were serving no longer exists, and the Republic has become the very evil we have been fighting to destroy?

Star Wars – Episode III: Revenge of the Sith (line spoken by Padme)

Slightly random, you wonder? If I replace the “democracy” and “republic” with “relationship” and “marriage” the question starts to work – what if our relationship is the problem and all our efforts to save it are just making things worse? That we are fighting to preserve a status quo which is itself toxic.

What was the state of our relationship before I came out as non-binary, and darkly kinky, and possibly polyamorous?

• We lived together but rarely did anything together.
• Time wasn’t sacred, it was wasted.
• My time felt squeezed between honouring my husband and expressing my interests.
• Neither of us felt at peace.
• Neither of us felt appreciated by the other.
• Sex was always on the weekend and always in the afternoon.
• I was always the bottom (and never felt satisfied unless penetration took place).
• My husband felt sexually unfulfilled.
• My kinks were never expressed, let alone explored.
• I struggled to be emotionally honest – to express my feelings.
• I lived in fear of my husband – his illness and his ability to express himself.
• I lived in fear of myself – my inability to express myself.
• Neither of us felt safe in our own home (albeit for different reasons).
• There was – and still is – love, but neither of us are sure what that means any more.

These are all things that we cannot go back to.